


Aftermath

by twentyyfourseven



Category: Ookiku Furikabutte | Big Windup!, ダイヤのA | Daiya no A | Ace of Diamond
Genre: ? - Freeform, Angst, Gen, I'll tell you that, Sawamura Eijun-centric, but then it is happy!, it's sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-14
Updated: 2014-04-14
Packaged: 2018-01-19 10:21:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1465828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twentyyfourseven/pseuds/twentyyfourseven
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sawamura gets help after the loss against Inashiro from the most unexpected of people by going back to his hometown. Abe Takaya and Mihashi Ren make an appearance.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Aftermath

Eijun wipes away his hot tears, and clutches his phone in his hand. He pulls his cap down over his face so that nobody really saw his tears. Nobody has to see his red-rimmed eyes and puffy cheeks. Because, in the end, he doesn’t deserve to cry because he was the one that screwed up.

To: Mihashi Ren

From: Sawamura Eijun

_We lost._

Two words. The message sent without a hitch, and Eijun remembers when Mihashi sent him the same exact text, just a few days ago in the early stages of the tournament.

Eijun keeps wiping his dirt-smeared face, sitting alone on the bus in the back with the sniffles of his teammates surrounding him and keeping him company.

His dead ball screwed up _everything_ and he was the one to blame. All they needed was one out. Just one. And he wasn’t able to pull through.

He stares out the window, concluding that the day is just way too sunny for such a horrible defeat.

If he can’t be counted on for one out in such an important game, what made Eijun believe that he could be the ace?

 

~

 

To: Sawamura Eijun

From: Mihashi Ren

_I’m really sorry. Don’t worry; you’ll be okay. There’s always next year._

Eijun doesn’t reply to the text of his old friend.

Eijun doubts that Mihashi knows the full impact of the loss. He knows that Mihashi was aiming to go far in the tournament, but their school had all freshmen and lost early. It’s insensitive, he knows, to think that their loss wasn’t as bad as his own, but it _wasn’t._ Their team is made up of all freshmen, and so they always have next year to fight alongside each of their close comrades. They were just a no-name school and they weren’t expected to go far.

Eijun, on the other hand, had senpais. This was their last year, and they all wanted to go out with a bang at the _Koshien._ All of a sudden, for the southpaw first-year, that unreachable dream to go there suddenly seemed possible. They were at the finals, and all their sweat and blood and _tears_ were useless and stupid because they lost thinking that they could count on such an untrustworthy pitcher like himself.

 

~

 

Eijun does an unspeakable act: he skips the dinner – that was sure to be filled with the tears of his comrades – that was made by the managers with a victory in mind. The lunch lady - such a nice lady - gave him such a small, sympathetic smile and complied with his small request to pack up the food he was required to eat so he can go somewhere quiet and _alone._ He doesn’t have the dignity to go into the cafeteria with his head held high as his senpais all cried into their food.

He forgoes the dinner with his teammates (who undeniably blame him for the lost) and sits in the baseball field’s dugout by himself. His heart is heavy as he unwraps the dinner and looks up at the dark sky.

The stars are out, and they make good company while he eats his lonely dinner.

He goes back to the dorms when his roommates are sleeping heavily and slides under the covers as quiets as a ghost.

The quiet cries that resonate through the room prove that it wasn’t a ghost but Sawamura Eijun crying into the pillow of his bed.

~

Eijun is the only one of the players to take Coach’s offered two-day vacation and this is how he finds himself on a train on Friday afternoon, following the defeat. He should feel ashamed, but he is just so _tired_ to feel bad about taking the vacation while all of his teammates deal with the defeat in their usual ‘we-just-have-to-train-harder-and-work-harder’ way.

Eijun’s way of getting over a problem is different; it’s ‘count-on-your-teammates-and-get-over-it’. But seeing as his teammates are less then happy with him at the moment, and how whenever he _does_ try to get over it (by throwing a high inside pitch) he gets a flashback of that cursed dead ball from the Inashiro match and screws up everything- from the release point with the ball flying out of his fingers to his impeccable form which he prided himself on.

That dead ball messed up everything. And he was the one who threw it.

Eijun sighs and leans his head on the window, staring outside as the scenery changes rapidly. His head is rattling against the window from the movements of the train, but he doesn’t care.

To: Mihashi Ren

From: Sawamura Eijun

_Coming home for two days._

~

To: Sawamura Eijun

From: Mihashi Ren

_Okay! I’ll meet you at your house. :)_

~

Mihashi Ren waits patiently on the steps of the Sawamura house, waiting for his childhood friend.

He does continuous sweeps of the area, making sure he doesn’t miss the fellow pitcher, while holding his phone in his two hands.

Mihashi Ren and Sawamura Eijun met when they were both on their junior high baseball teams and when they played each other. Eijun, with his star status around his friends; and Mihashi, with his team that hated him.

Eijun cornered him with one of his mega-watt smiles while Mihashi squirmed at getting the unwanted attention because in his book the unwanted attention meant soon-to-be-pain.

_Mihashi flinched and kept looking for ways to escape the smiling pitcher._

_“That was AMAZING pitching! I wish I had that much control. But all I’ve got is my weird fastball. But your control is just AMAZING!” the pitcher of the other team gushed._

_Mihashi could only gape._

_“Yeah, my team lost, but the next time our teams meet then we’ll beat you!”_

_The boy raised a hand, and Mihashi couldn’t help but flinch because he remembered when his catcher hit him on the back, but it wasn’t because of camaraderie, no not at all._

_“H-hey… why are you flinching?”_

_Mihashi stops his cowering in the corner. He peeks from behind his hands to see a bewildered kid, holding up a hand for a high five._

_“Are people bullying you?”_

_Mihashi felt trapped and cornered. He frantically looked for a way out, opening his mouth like a fish and flapping his arms wildly and just overall looking like a bird._

_“You can tell me, I won’t tell anybody,” the boy promised._

_Mihashi calmed down from the boy’s gentle voice. “M-my name is.. uh… M-Mihashi Re-Ren…”_

_The boy grinned, happy that he was successful to get this Mihashi kid to smile. “My name is Sawamura Eijun. So is it your teammates?”_

_Mihashi nodded._

_They exchanged emails after that, and Mihashi was surprised to know that the next day that he saw his team, he saw bright red, angry handprint marks on each of their cheeks._

_Mihashi also notices, when he gets to meet up with his new friend Sawamura, that the boy had multiple bruises along his face and arms._

_“Sawamu-mura, what happened to you? Who did this?”_

_Sawamura smirked, like he knew something Mihashi didn’t. “I helped out a friend.”_

_Mihashi felt his heart soar._

_This was the moment that Mihashi decided that Sawamura Eijun was his best friend._

Mihashi keeps a sharp eye out for the loud pitcher. Sawamura hasn’t responded to his text, so that didn’t help put his nerves to rest. He glances at his phone’s clock.

_11:13 A.M._

Mihashi is supposed to meet with his baseball team for a pick up game at one.

A dot in the horizon catches his attention, and he sees that little dot coming closer while carrying a duffle bag and a backpack.

Mihashi jumps from the porch’s steps, dusting off imaginary dirt from his regular white shirt. He tries to look everywhere but the little dot coming closer (it was obviously Sawamura) but he can’t help being nervous. Has he changed since they last saw each other? Mihashi doesn’t think he changed that much, but he saw Sawamura’s last match and noticed how his pitching form changed. Maybe other aspects of himself have changed too.

Unnecessary thoughts flood his head.

_Who’s taller now?_

_Who has a deeper voice now?_

_Who’s stronger?_

_Did Sawamura’s pitching change?_ It definitely looked different from what he saw on the TV for the coverage of the Koshien. What did the fancy baseball school change about Sawamura? _  
_

Lost in his own (unnecessary) thoughts, Mihashi doesn’t notice the teenaged boy walk right up to him, staring at his frozen form. A beat passes, and Mihashi jumps five feet in the air, squawking like a bird (and flapping like one too).

Sawamura smiles a tired smile, a type of smile Mihashi hasn’t seen in years. Sawamura, ever the one to show PDA, drops his duffle bag and pulls Mihashi into a hug that Mihashi hadn’t been accustomed to before meeting Sawamura.

Sawamura lets go of Mihashi and grabs his duffle bag from the ground, while walking past the frozen pitcher. Mihashi watches Sawamura’s back as the boy slides out his house keys when he finally broke out of his trance.

“S-so, Sawamura, how are you?”

Sawamura throws a smile over his shoulder, still working on getting the door open. Mihashi vaguely remembers how Sawamura used to complain about how much work it is to unlock and open the front door to his house.

Mihashi doesn’t recognize the smile at all. It is tired and stained with sadness that wasn’t there before and- what is that unrecognizable _thing_ in it?

“I’m good, just really tired.” He smiles again. His back was turned again, and he was still jiggling the door. “You’re stuttering got better.”

“Mmmmm!” Mihashi nods eagerly, not that Sawamura could have seen it anyway.

Sawamura finally got his door unlocked and opened. He takes a step into the foyer and holds open the door for Mihashi. He gestures for Mihashi to come in and to follow him. Mihashi hurriedly enters the door and slides off his shoes.

He follows Sawamura up the stairs, nobody really exchanging words. They go into Sawamura’s room, like so many times before, and Mihashi takes a seat on the edge of the bed while Sawamura unpacked.

“U-um my team is m-meeting for a pick up game at one and uh I was uh wondering if youwantedtoplaywithusastheteam’sotherpitcher?” The words tumble out of his mouth before he can control it or try to rephrase the question better. It may be a sensitive time to have anything to do with baseball so soon after the harsh loss of the Koshien.

“What?” Sawamura turns his curious gaze to Mihashi, not understanding what the timid pitcher wanted to say.

Mihashi flushes bright red. “Do you uh want to play with us as the uh other’s pitcher?”

Sawamura contemplates the question. Would he ruin all the team’s fun with his so-so pitching? His control is pretty shitty and that would probably frustrate the team’s catcher to no end if the catcher were not used to his pitching. The speed of his ball was pretty slow which would no doubt get hits off of him. And, being totally honest, he can’t get the daunting image of the dead ball out of his over-worked head. The only way he was able to even pitch in the games was because of the amazing infielders behind him able to catch all the hits and a prodigious catcher. He isn’t, as he believed long ago, special or amazing or particularly strong. 

 The ‘no, maybe another time’ is about to roll off of his tongue when he see Mihashi’s really obvious face. It says, _“Please say yes yes yes; I really want you to play, please say yes, it will be fun.”_ Sawamura’s will is dissolved instantly.

~

It is awkward. The silence is deafening. It is a total stare down with one vs. all.

Mihashi squirms in his spot, looking between Sawamura and his own team while it seems that they were all having a stare down.

“Guys,” Mihashi says and instantly regrets it. Mihashi never did well when he has everybody’s attention. He flushes once again. He fiddles with his hands and tries to avoid everybody’s gazes.

“Damn it, Mihashi, didn’t we already talk about this?” Abe fumes. “Just say what you want to say.” It is a mean thing to say, but Abe doesn’t care. He is already in an annoyed mood because his mom was getting on him about his recent English test. But that didn’t mean that it was right to use Mihashi as his personal punching bag.

Abe just wants to play baseball, but he didn’t want to deal with bratty and self-absorbed pitchers that he didn’t even have to form a battery in a real game with.

Sawamura steps up next to Mihashi and held out a warning hand to Abe with an angry crease between his eyebrows. “Don’t talk to Mihashi like that!”

Abe didn’t mean to offend Mihashi at all; the pitcher just doesn’t talk that much without blushing and stuttering and it was _annoying._ Don’t even get Abe started on the new guy Mihashi brought with him- now _he_ already gave off the air of extremely annoying that just crawls under Abe’s skin. “And who are you to tell me what to do?”

Sawamura is practically fuming at this guy for blatantly disrespecting Mihashi like that. It makes his mind jump back to the year before with Mihashi’s old teammates. His hand shoots out and fists Abe’s shirt. “Say sorry to Mihashi.”

“Who the hell are you to tell me what to do?” Abe shoots back.

“You wanna fight?”

Abe, also retaliating by also fisting Sawamura’s shirt, goaded him. “Hell yeah, you bastard!”

Before an actual fight breaks out between the hot-heads in front of the Nishiura Baseball Team, Mihashi steps in sheepishly. “I, uh, I wasn’t getting picked on, S-Sawamura-kun. Abe-kun is just in a bad mood.” The team nods, supporting the meek pitcher’s words.

Abe and Sawamura eyes each other wearily before they let go of one another’s shirts and went back to their respective places with Mihashi in between them.

“Guys,” Mihashi does his best to not flush and stutter and be hesitant under the heavy gazes of everyone on the field, “this is Sawamura Eijun-kun. Sawamura-kun, this is my baseball team I have been telling you about: the Nishiura Baseball Team.”

Everybody nods at one another respectively, but Sawamura and Abe glares at one another.

“Let’s play ball!” Tajima yells.

~

Sawamura glares at Abe as they continue their warm-up throws. Team A is pitching first with Team B up to bat. Mihashi somehow roped Abe and Sawamura to be on one team while he, the mediator, put himself on the other team with the kid named Tajima as the catcher. Sawamura is too busy glaring at Abe to be suspicious about what Mihashi is up to.

“What shitty control you have!” Abe shouts, as he throws back the baseball to Sawamura, who is glaring holes into Abe’s head.

This is going to be a long game. Sawamura groans. _Do it for Mihashi. Do it for Mihashi._

“Sawamura-kun is from Seidou, right? He pitched in the finals of the tournament right?” Tajima inquires. “He screwed up with a dead ball, right?” he so eloquently put it. Mihashi nods, evaluating the pitcher and catcher arguing about control issues.

“Is he alright?”

That is the fifty-million-yen question.

Mihashi shakes his head. “I don’t know, but hopefully Abe-kun can knock whatever it is out of him.”

The plan of Mihashi’s can either have amazing effects and Sawamura will go back to himself or the entire plan will blow up because of the tempers of the two.  Hopefully it is the former.

~

It is the middle of the faux-game and Abe is ready to lose it.

Sawamura keeps _shaking his head_ at anything on the inside, or he would pitch but then the ball wouldn’t even be near the _fucking batter._ Like nowhere in the three foot perimeter.

Steam is practically flowing out of Abe’s ears as he gives the sign for a high inside pitch. Tajima is doing his usual before bat routine, and Abe knows that they do not want Tajima to get on base. Mihashi is watching from the sidelines with bated breaths.

Abe glares at the idiotic pitcher on the mound that had little control and Abe was wondering on _how in the world this_ _guy pitched in the finals of the Koshien Tournament._

Sawamura shakes his head and Abe wants to clobber this guy’s head in. It’s not like this guy can’t pitch to the high inside. Abe saw Sawamura, with all the pressure of having all of Japan watching him, pitch to the inside and _succeed._ So what was this guy’s problem? It’s like he did a total one-eighty degree turn.

Abe sends another signal to Sawamura and he nods, and finally he is pitching the pitch that Abe asked for. Just as Sawamura brings up his leg to his chest, there is movement in the corner of Abe’s eye.

Shit! There was a runner on first that slipped Abe’s mind, something unlike himself, and Abe curses himself long and extensively in his head. But then- then (this just puts the icing on the fucking cake) Sawamura puts his foot down on the ground and turns to throw the ball to second base to try and get the runner out, which he doesn’t do in the end because the runner is already back on first.

He balks. The idiot balks instead of just finishing pitching to try to get Tajima out. Abe specifically remembers telling Sawamura that they _do not_ want Tajima to get on base. But that idiot goes and does something like this, giving Tajima a base without actually hitting.

Abe is fuming while stalking to the mound and yanking off his catcher’s mask.

“What is your problem?” Abe yells at the pitcher in his face, furious hand motions adding to the effect.

“It was an accident!” Sawamura tried to defend himself.

“I told you we didn’t want Tajima on base,” Abe admonishes, glaring. “And- and while we’re at it what is with your pitching?” Abe asks, already on a roll. “You have been throwing balls and giving out walks like they were fucking candy today!”

“I’m having a rough time, okay?” Sawamura sounds annoyed, glaring at the catcher who didn’t understand anything of his current predicament.

“’Rough time’ my ass! You get to play with some of the best baseball players in the country! You get to go to a fancy boarding school and play ball all the time! You made it to the finals of the Koshien Tournament! You don’t _have_ a rough time!”

Sawamura cracked at the words spewing from the catcher’s mouth and grabbed the front of Abe’s shirt, screaming, “Shut up! You don’t know what you’re talking about!”

Then it clicks. It _clicks._ Abe understands what is with Sawamura’s pitching and it all traces back to the dead ball that cost them the game. And he knows what to do to make the idiot realize his real problem, because Japan couldn’t lose such a unique pitcher because of one mistake that left a slew of problems.

“You, Sawamura Eijun, are a _coward._ You retreated to your old town after you ran away from your team.”

_Provoking. Provoking is key._

Sawamura tightens his grip on Abe’s shirt and shakes Abe, but Abe is unperturbed because he knows his words are getting to Sawamura. “You bastard!”

“Why can’t you throw to the inside?”

The question throws Sawamura off guard and he lets his grip slip. Abe is free of Sawamura’s grip but he isn’t done yet.

Sawamura asks himself the same question at night when he is by himself and it’s all right to cry pitifully. Every time he asks himself the question and he never gets anywhere with the thinking. He doesn’t want to let down his team, but it just seems like there is no right answer.

Sawamura stays silent, glaring at the ground.

“Man up, you coward! You fucking coward! Man up, because you still have a team back in Tokyo that you need to prove yourself to.” Abe’s tone changes considerably and is at normal volume now with a hard edge to his words. “You lost their confidence. The damage of the dead ball doesn’t stop there; no, you lost confidence in yourself. You have to earn back the confidence before you can even think about trying to regain their trust in you.”

Abe roughly thrusts a baseball glove (Sawamura’s from when he threw it down on the ground sometime before he grabbed Abe’s shirt) to Sawamura’s chest. “Start with pitching to the inside.”

~

Sawamura hauls his bags over his shoulder as he walks to the train station. His small vacation is over, and Sawamura is heading back to Seidou in Tokyo. He lugs his bags and grabs his train ticket from the ticket booth when a motion of _flapping_ catches his eye.

And low and behold is Mihashi, flapping away - from nervousness, to get Sawamura’s attention, happiness, who knew? – with Abe brooding next to him.

Sawamura stiffens naturally. The game from the day before burns in Sawamura’s mind. After their spat in the middle of the game, they didn’t speak. They hadn’t talked about anything that wasn’t baseball and if they did talk, they would use minimal words. Sawamura didn’t pitch as badly as the first half of the game, but pretty dang horribly compared to before the Inashiro game.

Sawamura hates to admit it but Abe was right. He really lost confidence in himself, and he doesn’t know how to regain it.

Sawamura walks to where Mihashi and Abe were standing. There is a pregnant pause of silence between the three baseball players. A stare is shared between Abe and Sawamura with Mihashi staring at them with bated breaths.

“W-we wanted to come and say goodbye to Sawamura-kun!” Mihashi exclaims.

Sawamura glances at the Nishiura pitcher, raises an eyebrow at Abe standing not even a few meters away, and looks at Mihashi expectantly. “And what’s he doing here?”

Before Mihashi could answer, Abe sticks out a hand and stares Sawamura down with a blank look.

“Is this some peace offering from your shitty job yesterday?” Sawamura asks.

“Just take the damn hand!” Abe shouts, cool composure gone in a matter of seconds.

Sawamura takes the hand and a moment passes with them just looking at one another. He realizes that this is Abe’s (odd) way of showing his respect/tolerance of him. They let go of one another’s hands and Abe rolls his shoulders. “Keep pitching, get your confidence back, and earn your team’s trust back. I hope to see on the other side of the diamond for an official game.” Brief and to the point, Abe is.

“Yeah, and when we play I’ll show you how good I am!”

“S-Sawamura, I um made this for you.” Sawamura looks at Mihashi, who is holding out a folded mat. Mihashi is blushing red and not meeting Sawamura’s eyes.

Sawamura takes the folded mat, his curiosity piqued. He starts to unfold the mat with Mihashi explaining, “I-I made this last night so that you can w-work on your control and become even b-better. It’s um sorta like the one I have in my backyard.”

The mat Sawamura unfolded is a two by three mat with the two most middle squares colored in red signifying the middle of the strike zone. Sawamura stares at the mat with shining eyes and brings Mihashi in for a bear-like hug. “Thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you!”

 Sawamura finally lets go of Mihashi and starts to roll the mat up nicely. For sure Sawamura is going to use this! It will definitely help his future pitching!

“The train to Tokyo is now in the station, will all passengers board the train,” a loud voice on the loud speaker booms.

Sawamura grabs his bags and new mat in his hand. “Hey, I gotta go, guys, but I’ll be back soon! See you then! I’ll miss you, Mihashi!” he calls over his shoulder, in a much better mood then he was since the last time he was in the train station. He sprints toward his train and barely makes it when the train doors were just about to close.

He stares out the window and sees the figures of Mihashi and Abe waving goodbye to him and hurriedly waves back. The figures start to become little blobs in the horizon, and Sawamura quickly takes his seat like a normal civilian. He rests his head against his duffle bag while closing his eyes.

It’s going to take a while to gain back the confidence in his inside pitches, yes, but he’ll do it. He’s going to stand on the mound again as a confident pitcher and won’t crack under the pressure. He has a team’s trust to earn back and people that support him. The Seidou Baseball Club flashed in his head. Mihashi and, strangely, Abe follow in suit in his mind. Sawamura has too many important people to play against to have these yips take the chance away.

The grip on the practice mat that was rolled up in his hand tightens considerably at the thought. He is going to rise to the occasion for everybody.


End file.
